FIRE!

I am going to try not to whinge too much in this entry as I am sure it's hella tedious. There are some things that are going to be left out for a number of reasons - not least that a lot of the thoughts in my mind are bordering on the insane - but also because I don't want certain people to read these things. I have told a couple of people and they have listened to me complain, and I really appreciate it. I know I'm not fun to be around and I'm so grateful that there are people being so sweet to me. I feel so guilty, because these people don't know that I'm actually a bad person. That's something for another day though. As I said, no whinging.

Briefly, I do want to want to complain - and I promise this is brief - about my hip. It's fucked. It's actually very painful to walk at the moment, and I keep wobbling about, which is always attractive. So this morning, I looked it up on the internet, and oh my god, please don't let it be any of these things. I'm going to go to the doctor and get myself fixed up look sharp.

The most exciting thing today was that I called 999! A man collapsed in the street, so I called an ambulance. It took literally two minutes for the paramedic bike to come. I was well impressed, and then I thought, yeah, but the hospital is only up the road. Then I remembered that Guy's doesn't have an A&E, which of course I know full well, having spent a Saturday morning having this whole rigmarole. So it was quite impressive, and an ambulance came two minutes after that. I hope the man is alright. I don't know whether it's actually quite deplorable to find it exciting to call 999. I've called it three times in my life (that I recall- once the police and twice now the ambulance), but the other two times weren't so exciting. In fact they were crap. Now all I need is the fire brigade. My youngest brother called the fire brigade once, at saturday school. He was only little but he got in loads of trouble with our parents. I was a bit envious, to tell the truth, that he had the guts to actually call the fire brigade. I was always too scared to do stuff like that. I kind of made up for it in my first year at uni when I got the fire brigade called out twice to High Holborn halls. Obviously now I apologise to everyone for waking them up, but honestly, the megalomanic feeling of looking along High Holborn and seeing 600 people standing around in their pyjamas and fire engines providing a surreal backdrop was not only immensely satisfying, but a kind of "fuck you" to the LSE.

Actually last night there was a bin on fire on Battersea High Street and it took five men to put it out. My friend thinks she might have started it by chucking her lit cigarette in there an hour previous. Class.